


break the cage, shatter the man

by ghostbythesea



Series: The Umbrella Academy Fantasy AU [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Knight Luther Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves Has a Human Body, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Luther Hargreeves-centric, Major Character Injury, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Self-Esteem Issues, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26248240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbythesea/pseuds/ghostbythesea
Summary: Above his head, the moon watched over him, an unblinking light in the darkness. It was a better companion than the family who’d left, he thought ruefully, choosing their own ambitions over the greater good of humanity.He recognized that he could only rely on himself, and he knew that he was better off without them.Sir Luther Hargreeves undertakes a quest.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves
Series: The Umbrella Academy Fantasy AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906795
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	break the cage, shatter the man

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: some implied child death, depictions of combat

_  
“Your presence has been requested in the village of Fieldstone.” Dipping his quill in the black ink on the desk, his father continued writing in the red, leather-bound book in front of him, his voice and the scratching of quill on paper the only sounds in the solar. “Inhabitants began reporting disappearances and a decrease in the local game population approximately four months ago. They requested that whatever is hunting the residents be either slain, or captured.” _

_ It was a short, concise explanation of what was likely a more complex situation than what he was describing, but Luther’s father was often busy with matters of importance to their lands, and he knew that he could likely find the answers to his questions with the townsfolk. His father trusted him to complete the quest satisfactorily, and that involved taking the initiative to find the information and solution that he needed. _

_ Luther could only hope that he could make his father proud. _

_ “Understood,” Luther said firmly. _

_ “You are dismissed.” _

_ His chest tightened. “Yes, father.” _

*

On horseback, he had arrived by noon, the blistering midday sun making him sweat uncomfortably beneath his armor. It was miserably hot for a day in late autumn, and if he’d known, he would’ve worn fewer layers.

Once, he might’ve needed to manage his brothers and sisters, to ensure they weren’t distracted by taverns on the roads or by traveling strangers, but it’d been four years since the last of them had left the castle. Now, traveling was a simple endeavor, from one point to another.

~~ The silence was too much, sometimes. ~~

He didn’t mind the silence anymore.

Fieldstone’s streets were empty, with abandoned stalls in the market and nobody clustered in the town square, although he could occasionally see people moving within the buildings. The streets were poorly taken care of, dried mud between the crooked flagstones, and he nearly tripped as he walked into town, leading his mount. In the windows, children crowded to watch him pass, and he wondered how long the town had been so desolate.

It was easy enough to find the mayor’s residence from the surplus of guards outside, armed to the teeth and clearly uneasy, although they relaxed when they saw him approach. On the edge of town, it was two stories, with an elegant stone facade and banners hanging from the walls, and Luther felt his stomach twist. Mayors oftentimes inherited the position, that much was common knowledge, but they rarely flaunted their family’s influence so _ostentatiously_.

“Sir Luther, m’lord,” one of the guards greeted. The man smiled at him thinly, extending a hand, and he clasped it. His firm was grip, and Luther could feel his desperation. “Mayor Lindsay has been expecting you.”

“I’m at his service,” Luther assured him.

“Jonah,” he called, turning around to open the doors to the manor, “stable his horse. Somewhere secure.”

Another man took his horse’s reins, and Luther followed the guard into the Mayor’s manor, feeling uncomfortable with the guards’ eyes tracking him as he entered the manor. Whenever a beast was killing livestock, or people were dying under suspicious circumstances, he was often the first man called. The responsibility rested heavy on his shoulders, but he knew it was preparation for when he inherited his father’s title of Lord. He was building bonds and trust with his people, as was expected of a man with his social position.

_Sir Luther Hargreeves, protector of the people, heir to the Lordship of Argyle._

It was his duty to uphold the sanctity and honor of his position, and protect the safety of his future lands.

Mayor Lindsay’s manor was extravagant, compared to the barren streets of the town outside. Paintings and relics decorated the walls, symbols of power and wealth, and the furniture was embroidered with gold and fashioned of polished wood. His dusty shoes scuffed against the floor as he walked, and he felt woefully underdressed, in his simple metal armor and clothes, although anything heavier and he could’ve suffered from heatstroke.

His office was equally pretentious, lions rampant carved into the wooden door, and the guard leading him knocked loudly, the sound reverberating in the hallway. After a moment of silence, the door swung open to reveal several more guards, who parted to let them through.

Mayor Lindsay was sat at his desk, a large platter of roasted pheasant and potatoes in front of him. Grease smeared across his face and fingers, when he saw them, he stood abruptly, smiling broadly. “Our hero has arrived,” he declared loudly, gesturing towards him.

“It’s my honor,” Luther managed to return.

“No need to be so formal,” Mayor Lindsay scoffed, coming forwards and reaching out to clasp his shoulder. He fought the urge to jerk away from him, reminding himself of the proper decorum. Even if the man was smearing greasy fingerprints across the armor he’d just polished that morning. “You’re the man who’ll resolve our problems. You can help us, yes?”

“I assure you,” Luther said, “I am the best man for the job.” It was what he needed to be.

“Wonderful,” he said, releasing him. “So, what is our culprit?”

“Well,” Luther said, “what do you know of it?”

Mayor Lindsay frowned. “Did you not read the letter?”

“My father showed me none,” Luther said, before he made the connection. It must’ve slipped his mind, he supposed. He was awfully busy when he’d left, likely penning letters to neighboring lords, or sending more supply requests. Perhaps he was corresponding with the king, or taking important notes. Whatever his reasoning, he was sure it was justified.

“No matter,” the Mayor sighed, shaking his head. He gazed out the window, licking his digits messily before wiping them on his silk clothes. “It hunts during the night, although the townsfolk have taken to staying indoors. Unfortunate, considering that my... _coffers_ have been rather wounded by this, not to be blunt.”

“Your people are scared,” Luther reminded him. “They don’t know better.”

“Regardless, I need this problem resolved.” He turned around, lips set in a thin line. Luther swallowed tightly under his gaze, heartbeat quickening. He knew that he couldn’t disappoint. “It prefers to take the children, mostly, although it’s taken to stealing livestock. My men believe it’s in,” he pointed out, towards a copse of trees in the distance, “those woods. I sent a group of men to investigate, and they haven’t returned.”

During the spring, they must’ve been proud trees, standing taller than the houses, but the autumn had made them drop their leaves. Their branches reached towards the sunny sky

“It sounds like you have a forest hag,” Luther said. He’d memorized the compendiums that his father gave him, and whatever was haunting the woods outside of the town certainly fit the criteria. “They’re unintelligent creatures, mostly nocturnal.”

“Well, how do you kill it, then?”

*

_ After Ben’s funeral, they drifted apart. _

_ It was Klaus, first, leaving silently three days after their brother had been put in the ground. He’d never been close to Luther, preferring the company of Diego and Allison, and rarely interacted outside of training, but with him, the house was already too quiet. Klaus was the heart where Ben was the soul, and Luther hadn’t appreciated the way he forced them together until he was gone. _

_ After him, Diego went to squire with the King, declaring that he would rather defend the kingdom than continue to listen to their father. Luther had resented him for leaving, because they were destined to save the world, his father’s prophecy proved it, but he wouldn’t listen. _

_ Vanya went just as quietly as Klaus — took her lute, packed up her bags, and requested that their father pay for her tuition at Icarus, before moving out. Father didn’t tell him and Allison that she’d left until the week afterwards, but Luther knew he should’ve noticed before, even if Vanya had never had a gift for the magics like the rest of them did. She was family, after all. _

_ He thought that Allison would stay. _

*

Crouched in the forest, some distance from the edge of town, Luther waited.

He’d tied a pig to an oak tree as bait, and it snuffled in the dirt, seeking out bugs and vegetation. Hopefully, he would be able to eliminate the infestation without it coming to harm, although it would be going straight back to the slaughterhouse he’d borrowed it from. Some hunters used children as bait for hags, but Luther refused to endanger one of the town’s already frightened residents.

He’d accomplish his mission another way.

Above his head, the moon watched over him, an unblinking light in the darkness. It was a better companion than the family who’d left, he thought ruefully, choosing their own ambitions over the greater good.

He recognized that he could only rely on himself, and he knew that he was better off without them. Father had told him so, that although they were stronger together than apart, their strength as a team didn’t matter when they were so unwilling to cooperate. Especially father Five had left, and Ben had died.

Their childhood hadn’t been typical, sure, but Luther thought it had been happy. Father had given them a roof over their heads, food on the table, and fine clothes and sturdy shoes. Without him, many of them would’ve been abandoned, or mistreated by parents who never wanted them. Children born during the convergence were considered cursed for a reason, but their father had taken what should’ve made them outcasts and made them into _heroes_.

At least Luther had a greater purpose — a reason to exist.

It was more than Diego could say, wandering the continent after failing to become a knight on his own merit, or Klaus, likely wasting his life away in drug dens and brothels, if he was still alive. Vanya had nothing from the beginning, although he supposed she’d found her calling in her position as a bard, and even Allison, wedded to a king but with no actual power of her own, wasn’t working towards something more meaningful.

He would fulfill their destiny in their place, and make their father proud.

The rustle in the brush was the only warning he had before he was being tackled into the grass and decayed leaves on the forest floor, something sharp sinking into his waist, _painfully_ —

His hand had already been positioned on the grip of his bastard sword, and he had drawn it and plunged it into whatever tackled him before his mind could catch up with his body. There was growling around him, the sound distorted by the blood rushing through his ears, but when he quickly rolled back to his feet, he found a wolf shifting back into the shape of a man, dead and in his underclothes on the ground.

“Lycanthropes,” Luther muttered harshly under his breath, turning around the clearing. Not hags.

There were four other wolves encircling him, haunches raised and teeth bared, but the moon was still waxing. Forced transformations only occurred underneath the full moon, which meant that for the past several months, they’d been intentionally shifting to hunt, and—

Luther forced that thought away, focusing on adjusting his posture. He needed to keep his head, despite his anger, and the searing pain in his side.

Two attacked him at once, and he swung his sword upwards, slashing into the throat of one before spinning around to brandish his sword at the other. The lycanthrope feinted left, as its companion leaped at him from behind, but he dodged its assault nimbly as he left a deep wound in the other’s flank.

Weaving around the third remaining, it leapt towards him, and when it opened its mouth, showing a row full of angry teeth, he plunged his sword down its throat, quickly removing it as the beast collapsed before moving onto the two that were still growling at him, although they seemed considerably more wary.

Bringing his sword up, he spread his feet, keeping balanced between them so he could dodge whichever direction they chose to attack. As he backed away from a patch of brambles and foliage, which would impede his movements, they crouched lower, approaching him slowly. They were right to be cautious of an experienced knight, although they still outnumbered him.

Lycanthropes, when not in a forced transformation, were intelligent creatures. Just as reasonable as _normal_ people, although they were predisposed to violence, and were counted amongst the realm’s many monsters and beasts as abominations. “Return to your original forms,” Luther warned, “and I’ll hand you to the town’s garrison. We can end this fighting.”

One of the wolves snarled, and lurched at him, circling around him as he turned to track it. The other attempted to tackle him, but he ducked below its attack, falling into a kneel. When the first attempted to attack him, he spun around, slashing towards it. His sword connected with flesh and muscle, tearing through the beast’s chest with ease. The convergence had granted him abnormal strength, and with it came an incomparable skill at the sword.  


Three dead, one remaining.

Gracefully, he rolled onto his feet, brandishing his silver sword towards the final lycanthrope. He feinted to the right before swinging left as he moved forwards to attack it, but it leapt backwards to avoid his strike, paws skidding in the dead leaves below them.

The lycanthrope bared its teeth, and launched towards his legs, fangs sharp and claws extended. He easily dispatched it with a simple swing of his sword, with none of its brethren to protect it, because even alone, it could not bear to admit its defeat.

Five dead men surrounded him, stripped of the furs they’d worn as beasts. It was a grim sight, but he’d defended the village, as he’d been instructed to. The end was worth the means.

As he took a step forwards, the wound in his side ached, and he hissed through his gritted teeth, pausing stiffly in the clearing. Reaching down, he pressed his hand against his side, but when he brought it back up, his breath caught in his throat, the pain finally registering in its entirety.

Looking at the blood smeared across his gloved hand, his fingers trembling, he hurried to remove the clasps on his ruined armor, and bile rose up in his throat when he saw the ragged wound in his side. There were teeth marks, his flesh torn from the beast attempting to strip away his flesh, and the blood spilling from it was a deep red in the darkness of the night, wet and reflecting the moon above him.

He knew the repercussions of what had happened.

The moon continued to watch him.

Across the clearing, he heard snorts, and when he turned, he found the pig, still leashed to his stump. With a shaky sigh, Luther stumbled towards him, settling down on the dead leaves that blanketed the ground. He didn’t know what to think, besides the raw sense of dread that seemed to fill him, his throat tightening until he could barely breathe, and his fingers turning numb. Although whether it was from panic or blood loss, he didn’t know.

“Father will be disappointed,” Luther managed to choke out — maybe to the pig, or perhaps to the moon.

Neither answered.

*

_ “Someday,” Allison mused, tracing her finger gently along the edge of her windowsill, “I’d like to go traveling.” _

_ Stars twinkling above them, they sat in her bedroom, curled up in her bed with warm furs piled on their shoulders and around their waists. It was nice, spending time with Allison. He didn’t need to be a leader, like he was with their other siblings, nor did he feel the pressure to be the perfect son, like he was around their father. She didn’t have expectations for who he should be. _

_ “Father says we’ll be able to start questing after our thirteenth birthdays,” Luther reminded her. It would only be four more months until the six of them were finally at an age where they could put their training to use. “We’ll see the whole continent, someday.” _

_ She rolled her eyes, smiling even as her brow furrowed questioningly. “Not for quests, Luther. I want to see the ocean, or explore abandoned castles. Discover what lies beyond the mountains.” _

_ “But what’s the point of that?” _

_ Their destiny was to save the world. It was what father had been telling them for as long as he could remember — that it would be the six of them who would stop the end of days, when a great evil‘s awakening would harken the end of days. The prophecy was almost as old as man’s memory, and their father was certain that they were the heroes, as foretold. _

_ Anything else was unnecessary. When they fulfilled their destiny, they would be able to rest. Until then, it was their duty to protect their people and the continent, to use the powers that’d been gifted to them to put good into the world. It was their duty to sacrifice themselves, if need be, for the sake of humanity, and to understand the honor that their positions entailed. _

_ Allison’s expression softened with pity, and Luther knew that she didn’t understand. She was so much better than the others, was attentive to her duties and always pushing herself harder, farther, but even she was tempted by the thought of freedom. “We’ll travel together, and I’ll show you.” _

_ “Alright,” Luther said tiredly. He’d let her have her fantasy — they wouldn’t be taking on the responsibility of their birthrights for several months yet. They were still children, until they could be trusted on their first quest. “Anywhere you go, I’ll follow you, Allison.” _

_She smirked, reaching up to shove gently at his shoulder. “I’m holding you to that, Luther!”_

*

“Your culprit was a pack of lycanthropes,” Luther declared, “not hags.”

Mayor Lindsay blinked, eyebrows shooting towards his receding hairline. “Well, did you kill the beasts?”

Luther felt a wave of nausea crest over him ( _soon, he wouldn’t be a knight anymore, he’d be the beast at the end of a man’s blade_ —), but he nodded, forcefully pushing the feeling of dread down. “Your people are safe again.”

If anyone knew his father’s heir was a monster, it would be an embarrassment. A humiliation that his father wouldn’t be able to tolerate, not even for the only child who’d stayed. The only child who loved him.

Rummaging in his desk, Mayor Lindsay removed a small sack. Walking towards Luther, he extended it in offering, grinning viciously. “Your reward, for a job well accomplished,” he explained, shaking the bag. Luther’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. “You’ve made your people proud.”

“I don’t take rewards,” Luther declined. “You can keep your coin.”

“Please,” Mayor Lindsay said, “accept it. Consider it a token of appreciation.”

Luther stared down at the purse. After a moment of deliberation, he took it.

Mindlessly, his feet took him where he wanted to go, as he tried to ignore the panic and misery that threatened to engulf him if he pondered on his predicament for too long.

He should tell his father, he knew, but he also knew that it would be unthinkable for Lord Reginald’s son to be a monster. He’d brought shame upon their family, he knew, but his father was a brilliant inventor, and scientist. It was possible that he’d know how to cure the condition, or at least manage him, so he wasn’t a threat. Whether that meant sending him away, or locking him in the dungeons, Luther didn’t want to think about.

People were already walking down the streets again, shopkeepers and craftsmen already filling their stalls in the market, and a pair of younger girls played with wooden swords in the street. He thought of Allison, what _she’d_ say if she knew what he would become, and while he knew she’d never reject him outright, their relationship would never be the same. The others would treat him disdain, although that would be nothing new.

He’d prided himself on being their father’s favorite child. The only one who’d stayed, who’d _listened_ to him. He knew that nothing would be the same as it was.

The workers at the local orphanage cried when he handed them the sack of coin, thanking him profusely. He assured them that his household had plenty enough already, that it was the least he could do to help them, and the embraces and teary expressions of gratitude he’d received from the children made his chest tighten and tears prick at his eyes.

“I’m just doing my duty,” Luther assured them.

__ His wound ached, as if it knew he was lying.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first installment of my (hopefully lengthy) Fantasy AU! I’ve done some pretty extensive world-building for this (perhaps eventually I’ll release the maps, world guides, etcetera that I’ve made), so I hope you all enjoy it! For now, thanks for reading, and if you have any ideas for what you want to see next, go ahead and leave a suggestion in the comments. ;)
> 
> Come scream into the void with me at @gay-poster-child on Tumblr, because as always, I’m cripplingly lonely and socially inept.


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